


Hallowed Halls

by S J McQuillan (sjmcquillan)



Series: Resugere [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Episode Tag, Expanding Upon Canon, Fallen Angels, Multi, Other, Pagans, Resugere Verse, other supernatural entities
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-20
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-27 02:46:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/973388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sjmcquillan/pseuds/S%20J%20McQuillan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You can imagine the surprise when a familiar face strolls right up to the Winchesters, makes light work of their current case and the apology when it goes a little awry.  Gabriel/Loki/The Trickster/Sparkles O'Leahy, powerful archangel (somewhat incognito) is back. Technically speaking.  Look, it's a bit of a mystery, completely solvable if he could have like five minutes to think. He can't seem to go anywhere without his brethren popping up, which would be buckets of fun if he didn't spend that time keeping them from killing him. Someone broke his smolder.  He has to see justice carried out.  So while flattered, it's annoying- they shouldn't be able to track him.  To make matters worse, he can't bank on a snap of his fingers not leaving him in hotter water than he's already in. So who better to go to, ask them to have his back while he chats up a pal of his to lend their assistance ('Relax, my friend is one of the good pagans, totally vegan. Honest.').  Team Free Friggin Will, that's who.  It'll be the cushiest gig TFW ever had. I mean, was his the face that would...OK, maybe.  But c'mon, they're almost dying to know how the hell Sparkles managed a comeback tour, let alone where's he been all this time. He knows he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You...have a BFF?

**Author's Note:**

> Set post Season 11. I tried to do a weekly update, but now this is part of the 'Work in Progress' Clan. Working on this. I hope this fills a mighty need. Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel/Loki/The Trickster/Sparkles O'Leahy, powerful archangel (somewhat incognito)- is back. After convincing Sam, Dean, and Cas he's actually him, he manages to get their help. In all honesty, they probably didn't want to let him out of their sight. And who-boy did it take some convincing to get them to come with. Probably that lil detail about his friend being a pagan that he swears up and down won't see them as an entrée. Good thing too, the clock's ticking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set post Season 11 (some spoilers). If it feels like post Season 9, there's a good reason for it. This is the result of an idea I got way back around the Sin City ep that has been brewing ever since.

His smirk falters, because this wasn’t- something wasn’t right. This wasn’t how he remembered it. Man he hoped that part didn’t get screwed up too…no, no, this should be the place. He was in the right town, right place, right digs, said, or rather thought, the magic word. Maybe he should have left the snap out of it. Heh, yeah right, who was he kidding. Granted this room wasn’t too shabby- it was bright with minimalist lines, sleek (just like he was), but it was way too bland. For a hot second he thought he constructed an Apple Store sans all the shiny hardware and throngs of people. There was no panache, no personality, a veritable blank slate. He clearly remembered feeling like he’d come home the last time he was here. So what gives?

Then he remembers the yahoos he brought with him and knows he’s going to have to look at them and explain. Or try to. Since convincing them that he was him didn’t exactly go off without a hitch, this lack of results wouldn’t help bolster his case. I really hate this.

The hairs on the back of his neck stand on edge,

"It was Mr. Foxy, in the parking lot, with a gator from the sewer,"

His smirk grows into a confident smile as he takes the hands that made a play at covering his eyes, turning to face their owner.

"Hearsay and slander."

He watches as Enkare mouths ‘ohhh..sure,’ knowing that they don't buy that for a second. And why should they, they know him better than that. He basks in their presence, as Enkare faux fixes his attire. Man, now this, this was starting to shape up to how he remembered. In spite of the distinctive lack of lovable, irresistible people. Himself excluded of course.

  
"It’s good to see you, Foxy" Enkare's face is bright and warm- the kind that smooths away all the facade and bravado.  It makes all the crap he’s gone through to make it this far worth it, "all of you."

He holds his countenance; he has a rough idea it’s been years since they’ve caroused, and he’s sorry. Something in the way they look at him tells him they know how sorry he is. He finds a small ember of ire being stoked as they share a knowing look: Enkare knew he gotten himself ‘perished’ that night in the Elysian Fields.

"Foxy?"  
  
Leave it to Dean Winchester to latch onto that. Oh hell, I know that look of... don’t-

"Mmm, you stick around as long as Loki has, you garner a nickname or hundred."

It takes everything in him to not petulantly shrug Enkare off of him as they twist their body and lean against his side while he crosses his arms comfortably in front, watching Enkare's own smug grin proudly on display as their gaze is cast upon his yahoos. No, they’re not my…dammit. I knew this was going to happen, I prepared myself for this happening. Note to self, not in front of the humans, especially these particular ones. On the upshot, I do have the small consolation of seeing the Winchesters try to reign in their fear as it registers they have Enkare's attentions, even if it’s not on their faces long. It was long enough.

  
"That right?"  
  
Great, now I have to endure that look, the one that gleefully asks if his hearing is still OK, the one where his head lowers, brows raised, and yep, he repeats the name, ‘Foxy?’ like a shark to seal-ful waters.  
  
I’m sure I’m wearing a scowl, watching their amusement ebb into their faces. Ha ha, powerful me in a bit of a vice. Oh right.. **powerful**  me. I ain’t gonna lie, I enjoyed their flinching when I bring my hands up to my heart.

  
"You wound me fellas. Casa Erotica 13 was a brilliant piece of entertainment; if you watched beyond the intro…you'd know why ‘Foxy’ fits..almost like a glove."

  
I enjoy twisting that knife, it’s clear on their faces they try and, shocker, fail, to not remember my at-the-time last hurrah. And it earns me a solid jolt in the side, “Oh c’mon…that’s clearly not in violation of the Sanctuary Coda.”

  
"Oh it’s not even close, but curdling someone’s fond affections for entertainment…that’s going too far," I feign that Enkare's dousing my buzz, and feel like I’m staring at the face of the Chesire Cat incarnate, "Nice to see some things don’t change."   
  
I am millennium-plus old, and it takes just about everything I have to not cross my arms and pout…Daddammit.

Then I see it, a slight veil of disappointment and maybe concern, I’m not sure. Then I notice Enkare's shifted their weight and not leaning on me anymore. I’m more concerned about the thickness I’m suddenly becoming aware of in the air around me.

'Loki, you are my bestest bestie ever, but sometimes? I wonder where you're mischievous head is..”

Despite giving E most of my attentions (because hello, Trickster), watching the movement of their hands with my own eyes, which are decidedly not anywhere near my person, there’s no mistaking the smack to the back of my head. For once, I’m actually not completely following, and  _I’m_  the one that’s taught them a sneak or two. I can soak the mirth the Winchesters are displaying even without looking their way. Yeah, yuck it up, because once I’m one hundred percent, it’s the last you’ll see it Men vs Wild. I wear my best whatever do you mean face. At least I hope it is. I hold Enkare's gaze, looking for some assurance that aspect of me is, if not one hundred percent, damn close. I can’t tell, but is that…yes, that’s genuine concern. You and me both sister.

"You really ought to demand an audit from the King’s men," there’s a toying playfulness in their tone before it softens, "It’s not like you to make a mistake, Loki, not a real one."

In my periphery, I see the Winchesters bear witness and take mental notes, relieved that the pagan’s attentions are on me again. I’m still on cushy footing, wondering myself what else got gummed up while someone or something Lazarus’d me, but my eloquence and charm seemed to be there in spades. It won’t work on E, not really, but the Moose (I am never letting that go) and Davey Crockett over there don’t know that.

"OK, ok. Ya got me,’ pausing for effect, ‘what do ya got me on again?"

I see an amused exasperation claim E's countenance; no one, mortal or god or winged dick can resist the brow wiggle.

E's hands lift while focusing on my-er the yahoos, fingers curling, a shimmer of light coalesces before them, their looks I cherish. A pagan, and I’m not wont to brag but one I told them had some significant juice, puts their weapons on display. Dean swallows, Moose..heh..he starts to open his hands in a show of peace and stuff and I don’t miss the slight glance of panic they exchange. I don’t enjoy their alarm and discomfort long, because now I’m basking in E's attentions.

"A mobile armada, does not, a sanctuary make."

Right. That. Yes…now  _that_  would violate the Sanctuary Coda.

"Relax, I’m sure it was something Loki forgot to mention in his haste to the reunion, hmm?"

I absently scratch the back of my head as E maintains their gaze upon me; yeah…nailed me on that. I did forget, sort of.

"Coda?"

Sam’s taken a step forward, the inquiry has remodeled the muscles in his face, his expression focused on me. I think that’s the Nerd Mode, something I've heard Dean tell Cas to show it's a sign of affection.  He uses it with Sam all the time. Dean’s face has done something similar, right down to the lip licking and raised brow. His whole demeanor and stance practically gruffed, ‘You wanna explain the part where we’re NOT supposed to have weapons in a juiced Pagan’s digs?’

"Yeeeeah, it’s kind of a thing here. The whole granting of Sanctuary includes keeping the peace."

"Meaning?"

I’m sure it’s an admirable trait, that the Winchesters hardly let anything go, and good with the whole world having been saved a time or two, but I can almost understand why it doesn’t win them points. Fellas, remember the part after I convince you not to ice me that we’re on a bit of a clock? Anyone? Bueller? These guys owned my brothers…my mind boggles.

I ready the Cliffiest notes I can about the powerful protections this place has, but E's hand on my shoulder makes it a non-starter. They still flinch a little when they have E's attention. I still enjoy it. Ow…think E's gotten stronger since the last time we hung out.

"Meaning that as long as no one starts anything, no one gets booted out," pausing a beat to read their faces, "Never been completely weapons free. No need really, the wards and magic take care of that. Basically, if you draw, draw in defense so you don’t find yourself suddenly outside. If anything, you’ll find yourselves pointing at air. It’s easier than removing the ban. Infinitely so."

We watch them as it filters in, looking around to obscure their faces, an attempt no doubt, to keep from being read, feigning to look for anything that resembles spell-work around them.

"S’ok Dean, the Eagle can stay right where it is."

Like I need any reminding as to why we’re BFFs. It’s undiluted joy to watch those bozos lose their cool a ration at a time. It’s about as much joy to smirk at them, even when Dean casts his glare my way, silently starting to fume. Moose over there all but, I think the kids call it, loses his ability to can. I think that was his hulking shoulders shrugging in a ‘you know what, screw it.’ kind of way.  That’s the ticket Sammy boy, just ride with it. I shrug lightly, all but mouth, “helllooo, Trickster.’ to remind them. It has nothing to do with feeling a touch more at ease, knowing E has my back. Or that maybe, I did tell them we’re going to my BFF’s digs and they happen to be a Pagan, no not Kali. Oh boy..Kali. She’s going to want to perish me a thousand ways from a million. But that can’t happen until we get what I came here for..apart from laying low in an impregnable fortress.

"Dean," blue eyes implore him to take a breath, "this place is aptly named. There is little need for alarm."

"Oh there’s plenty need, Cas, plenty. For starters, BFF bestie or not, how about some full disclosure. I’m sure you’re great, no offense, but we haven’t exactly had the rosiest of experiences when it comes to Pagans. Just about-"

"Every fiber in your being is telling you you were both monumentally mistaken for not having a bloodied stake on one of you?"

The air around them probably dropped a few degrees; that’s what you’d surmised just by watching them. E continues, takes a tentative step, their hands raised in a peaceable gesture,

"You’re Dean, he’s Sammy, and he’s Cas," E pressed on, usurping Dean’s pending interruption, ‘and I know that you’re you the same way I know who’s Sam and who’s Cas. And from that, Elder Winchester, I also know you’re three quarters of the party that stopped the End of Days, which, by the by, thank you."

Just when you think you couldn’t love someone anymore than you did, leave it to E to show you that you actually can. Dean’s mouth was agape, left speechless. No wise crack, no smirk, no ‘OK, now it’s time to kill it,’ no nothing. And I just about keel over from wanting to crack up so hard when E makes a motion with their hand to close it for him. It was a beautiful scene that unfolded.  Sam doing a double take when he looks with alarm at his brother, ‘His BFFBestie knows our names..’ that’s tinted with disbelief a second later. I don’t know what wigged Dean out momentarily more. That E knew them or that a pagan isn’t trying to line them up for dinner. He blinks a few times, looks to Sammy, to Cas, their silent conversation in the air; Dean displaying the trademark ‘you can’t be buying this,’ Sam displaying his trademark, ‘let’s not be hasty to judge,’ then Dean countering with his tried and true, ‘Have you NOT learned ANYthing?!’ met with Sam’s ‘Dean..’ I mean, I’ve seen it hundreds of times and I have to say, I’m kind of a bit disappointed. I thought they’d both would have learned by now. Cas, though, he’s curiously looking almost as amused as I am. Huh, humanity’s looking kind of good on him. And there it was, the ‘I need a drink,’ face- complete with a little shake of the head, the deep inhale that hitches in his throat when he nearly walks into a bar height table that was suddenly there, and what I assume was the particular drink he wanted. He’s still pissed, but right now it’s being trumped with a ‘whathewhat’ look. And that’s when I lost it your honor. He shoots me glance and it doesn’t stop me.

"Really? Really?! This is funny to you?”

Ok, maybe I shouldn’t have shown my unfettered glee, but you only live once…ish.  He throws his hands up in the air, and don’t think I didn’t see that choked off smirk Sammy boy. Dean takes the shot, now was his turn to try and shirk off everything with a ‘Screw this..’ and he uprights the tumbler. Oh Dean.

He’s opted for the liquid pause to gather his thoughts.

"Have you forgotten GLoki? I mean, you were there, you saw what happened. Odin, Ganesh, Hermes-"

"Mercury," Cas and Sam corrected in unison.

"Whatever. The  _point_ ,” oh don’t think I missed the emphasis on that Hero boy, ” is, there was a host of your kind that tried to serve us up on a platter to the friggin Devil. And they were swatted like gnats. Even when you told them it was a bad plan…you, the penultimate Trickster with infinite lives. We get away, he goes postal on your pagan ass, and here’s the best part. It’s been what…six years? And you come ask us for help. We’re supposed to take on some kind of faith you’re the jerkdouche we tussled with-“

"And failed I might add. What? Rep to protect," off his look, "Continue. It’s really getting good."

His glare promises to give Kali a run for her inevitable painful recompense, “Be your back up in case things get dodgy. And like your BFF said, every single ounce of me is telling me we are so screwed. I can  _promise_  you, when our gut tells us this isn’t going well. It means it’s not goin well. But go ahead Humpty, yuck it up.”

E laughs…is E…E’s  _laughing_  at me. Ouch.

Dean and Sam’s faces melt into a expression that asks ‘What just happened? Why is he shocked? Wait, how bad is it when he’s shocked…’

"Et tu," I ask, trying to sound as wounded as possible.

"Oh Foxy, I can see why you’re so fond of them…"

Daddammit…

"Fond?"

It still amazes me how fast those Winchesters can change up. E's got their attentions and they’re a little less impending-horrible-death-can-befall-us twitchy.

"Oh yes. Exceedingly."

I glare daggers at Enkare, but I know it’s useless. It’s what I get for sharing my deceits; leave it to E to make sure I get as good as I give. And the brothers are damn near blinding me with their unilateral amusement. Don’t sulk…whatever you do, don’t sulk.

"When Loki pops by, he usually has an entourage. Granted this time it’s not quite the same, still diverse, just not as plenty in actual bodies per se. Point being, he doesn’t have numbers just to have the numbers. Quality over quantity, ain’t that right Foxy?."

"But the people he does bring…he’s," Sam looks right at me, "fond of?"

I could pretzel those brows of yours…permanently, you smug Gigantor. Augh…that’s close to sulking. Play it cool, suave…I mean…that shouldn’t violate the Coda. I’m taken from my thoughts as I feel warmth at my back, E's arms wrap around me, chin rests ever so on my left shoulder. I can hear their smile lilt as it wisps across their lips. I don’t care if it shows, I’ve missed this, the camaraderie, the…I’ve missed my best friend. I feel like I can actually take a moment and breathe. Maybe that was motive for E doing this. I feel E move their head to look directly at them, feeling their cheek all but brush against mine and my ear.

"The part that’s the most telling though, is that everyone…everyone he’s brought here? Tried to kill him."

The Winchesters grow uneasy.

"But you guys…wow…you didn’t stop at one. And Foxy here can’t help but be impressed."

E ruffles my hair, “Some things don’t ever change…” and squeezes me. That’s when I realize that E’s telling me they missed me too.

"Relax, I’m his BFF- you’re fooling yourselves if you’re thinking I haven’t thought of a myriad of ways to kill him too"

"Hey!"

"What? S’true. My favorite thought experiments though are maiming. Some times you just can’t beat a good maiming."

"Os…talk like that, while it bestills my giddy heart, doesn’t help the case I made for you," I cast my glance to the Boys, E follows.

"Honestly Loki, what kind of pagans have you introduced them to.."

"Technically the tactical think tank at the Elysian Fields? I didn’t introduce them to. In fact, a part from you…no one."

"Ah.. I see," E looks at them, though the weight of their gaze doesn’t seem to affect them like it did before. Good. Progress.

"I take it, every one you have crossed paths with, you’ve had to kill, or seen to it that they were."

They don’t want to answer; Cas does, “Yes. That is correct.”

There’s no missing the ‘We might not have time to explain how profoundly not good that was’ look they give to Cas. He doesn’t miss it either.

Starting with a weighted sigh, ‘I don’t understand; it was the answer to Os’s question.”

"Wait…Os?"

That’s it Nerd Boy…

"Like..Eros?…goddess of-"

Dean should have finished his thought, E’da got a kick out of that, but I think Sammy’s kind of proud he stopped himself. Don’t ever let it be known that the Winchesters haven’t made continual progress at how to handle a Pagan encounter and survive. Sam whispers to him, annoyance and alarm laced in it, “Dude..re-al-li-ty…”

Dean’s brows are raised, ‘I’m asking a genuine question here, appreciate it’ is cast back to his brother. Then he remembers Cas said their name first.

"Wait…how do you know who she is?"

"They," he corrects.  "We’ve met before."

"Of course you have…thanks for sharing with the class.."

"You didn’t ask for Os's name. If memory serves, that’s kind of rude when given hospitality."

"That part of the Coda too?"

"No…just manners."

Three pairs of eyes are back on E…and me technically. They really don’t know what to make of their situation. I’m really enjoying this. E can land another zap on me…it’s worth it.

"So, you’re the god? of Love, right?"

Attaboy Sammy.

"And now we’re all mostly properly introduced."

"Mostly?"

Dean…always so primed to jump on the slightest notion of a ‘catch.’

"I haven’t been called Eros in eons. Like many of us that are still around, we have many names."

"Like..Foxy," Dean’s smirk nearly made his eyes luminescent.

One day, wait…you’ll have one and I.am.never.letting.it.go.

"That’s why he called you Os…Pathos, Eros, Ethos.."

"And that explains Dean’s ‘Nerdchester’.."

Oh man, Sam’s ‘Really?!’ he casts towards Dean is a thing of beauty. So’s Dean’s “What..it’s a compliment.”

"Yes…that’s one name of many, though I am not Eros.  I knew Eros, so it's a compliment."

"Do you..ah…have a preference?"

"Os is fine.  Truthfully? Use whatever name you want. I’m not hard to summon. Use the name, think of me, you reach out all the same."

"You’re kidding, right?"

"You’ve spent way too much time with Foxy, Dean. I’m not in habit of jerking chains; only to balance out the scales."

I can’t believe what I’m hearing and seeing as Os looks directly at me when they speak. OK, actually I can. It doesn’t mean I have to like it.

"Coaling silently isn't a good look on you Loki. The way you rack up Karma, it’s  _godly_ you still have lives.”

"And here I thought it was because I’m a lovable, misunderstood rogue."

"That  _would_  explain the slew of fans outside…trying to lay waste to my towns…”

"Fans?"

I don’t immediately register my body's crestfall, it’s only when I see the three of them show some concern. About the time that I do, my heart sinks as I almost pray to let it not be what I think it is.

In a neat motion, one of E's arms moves like they're drawing back a curtain, in its wake, it’s a high definition picture of something that’s inching perilously close to a battlefield. I see them, my ‘brethren,’ and I use that term for ease of labeling only. I devolve from heart hurt to pissed so fast, I don’t know that I’m clenching my fists until I feel a warmth in my chest emanate outward. I even feel Cas and the Winchesters shift with slight alarm watching me. Yeah boys, I forget I’m capable of that too.

"Is that…Loki?!" I look over to Dean, seeing a face set in near murderous resolution. It’s firmly set in a maiming resolve as he takes a few steps towards me while pointing to the window E has made.

"Tell me that is NOT my car…"

"Dean…"

His form becomes a little more recognizable. Actually both he and Sam’s form does and I’m impressed how close Cas’s form mimics theirs. It usually heralds in a very dead being. He looks to return in kind with a metric ton of interest, and it doesn’t falter when he looks back to E and the window.

"This? This is what they see. This?" E makes a similar movement, but mirrors the direction and a very different picture presents, "This is what is. Your baby is safe and sound."

Dean just about collapsed while standing up- if it were possible. His face drains of a majority of that resolve, but he casts his gaze at me, “My car gets one scratch, ONE, and I’m taking it in angelic hides, then the rest outta yours.”

The moment he finishes, he’s seized with alarm, hands go to his chest.

"Wait..dammit…that’s not what I-"

"It’s not the Coda Dean."

The look on Dean’s face right now, I call it the waitbutwha.

"I’m old, Dean. I’ve seen it thousands of times. It starts in the right direction, until lack of action turns it on the nearest adequate substitute. I intervened."

"That..that was you? What was you, specifically?"

"You’re fine, just a little more focused"

"So that whole my chest feels like it got its very own blanket..that was your love mojo?"

"Dean.."

I am so glad I kept a vested interest in these clowns. Sam’s taken a step towards Dean, hand on his shoulder, his look asking, ‘You OK, for real OK?’

He doesn’t shrug it off, and I don’t miss the slight nod he gives him, but his gaze immediately goes back to E, whose mirth can’t be denied either.

"Sure..my love mojo. Never heard it put quite that way, but OK. It fits."

"How come I seem more game to go out there and gank those assholes- how’s ‘love’ mojo do that?"

"Because right now, you’re indulging a particular trait you hold dear. And when I tell you that left unchecked those ‘assholes,’ will hurt someone in my towns, you feel it don’t you, a resounding swell of purpose and resolve. You all are."

It was a moment before Sam and Dean turned a bit more and looked at Cas, who bore a confused expression that heavily lent itself towards realization.

As if to answer, “Sometimes it aligns  with what’s in a warrior’s heart.”

Three sets of eyes were back on E with E's resting on each of them for a beat, their eyes blink, making it look like it was a means to generate a smile. A small one spread the corners of E's lips, “Things lost with time…notions of a warrior.”

I suddenly felt their eyes on me. It was Sam’s, “Dude,” that broke the silence.

"What? I’ve missed you knuckleheads. Stooging it up with Os is a gift unto itself.."

May have been mostly due to the actual popcorn I was munching. Guy’s gotta eat and this place was still a very hospital sanitized chic kind of thing.

Dean’s arm raise and gesture to the faux Call of Duty E has conjured up, “These fans? You forgot to mention it’s more like a legion out there…I’m assuming you’re not screwing with the actual numbers, right?”

Off of E's affirmative, he continues, “Os said ‘left unchecked,’ so we have even less time, don’t we?”

"Fair question Foxy. I’m stoked I’m a stop on your Come Back Tour, I am, but that seems like an excessive response. Even Zeus doesn’t react like this."

"Did."

"What?"

E looks from me to Sam, then to Dean as he elaborates, “Uh..yeah…he was one of the ones that…”

"Really, ol Tyrant got himself perished? Your doing?"

I think they were trying to assure each other they were really registering E was happy about this.

"Fellas, relax. You did the world a favor. There’s a reason he wasn’t invited to the Winchester Offering to the Devil"

They looked from me to E, then nodded, "Well we didn't actually land the blow that killed him.  We were there though."

E's smile was unmistakable; I think E also filled the room with a bit of their ‘love mojo,’ in their joy.

"I grant you favor."

"Favor?"

"Official, sealed, and binding way to say, you have an IOU from me."

"You may regret that Os.."

If looks could kill, the Winchesters’ job would become infinitely simpler.

"Nonsense…I’m probably one of the only pagans that hasn’t tried to screw them over and given them a favor they can cash in"

"What exactly does this IOU entail?"

While it stings a little, it does me proud their collective reaction was of suspicion and caution.

"Entails that you can ask of me something and if it’s in my power to grant, I grant."

"No offense, Os, but I don’t see how love mojo’s gonna help us out."

"Because you’re thinking myopically."

Dean’s face skewed, unbeknownst to him as to how much his knowledge base was set in many of the victors' accounts of history.

"Think bigger, Dean," he and Sam look over to Cas, "how do you know you love something. Then ask yourself how do you know how much you love something."

There was a pause, before Sam spoke up, speaking mostly to himself at first, “Antithesis..”

Dean looks at E, finishing his brother's thought, “We can’t know love without hate.”

"Close," off his inquiring expression, "Hate is just another facet of love. It’s indifference. Indifference is the opposite. Passion for something or its lack thereof inform how much you love (or don’t love) something or some being."

"And..you being you, you’re clued into all of that?"

"It’s how I knew you were you, Sammy was Sammy and Cas was Cas. Foxy’s affections or not, if you were strange to each other…he and your actions here…they’d be all I have to go on."

"Sly…kind of has a whole Bond feel to it. So, basically the three of us are an open book. That’s heavily one-sided, for someone asking for trust you know"

E just smiles, letting their gaze rest on each of them. Cas though, doesn’t seem nearly as perturbed as the brothers.

"Yeah, yeah, you guys have your guard up. Like that’s news. Can we get the focus back on me? Breaking: Loki, unapologetic narcissist"

"Sam, Dean, Cas…if time is kind, I’ll answer any question you have the heart to ask, but right now, my people are in danger and I should like to remedy that. So, Foxy," whoboy, it’s comforting to know some things don’t change, and that I’m still not fond of E's gamefaces, particularly when they call bullshit, "bestest bestie, why are you  **really**  here? They’re barely a match for you."

"Wait…what exactly does Os mean, barely a match. That’s not what you told us-"

Now I’m the one raising my hands in a peaceable gesture.

"Pre-Lazarus, yea, sure. May even throw out a few just deserts or fifty. But now, not so much, as you saw."

I say it a little more pointedly than I meant to, but they’re slowly coming to the same conclusion I have about me and my miraculous return.

"Os…look at me.  Really look at me."

I watch Enkare, watch their bemused expression dance freely upon their face before it tells me they’ll bite. I watch E's eyes search me, as they start to luminescence, the core of their being peering out and upon me. I see E's lips part, their expression falter, I feel that warmth in my chest then radiate, surrounding me. Let me tell you, there are few things like that of a Deity of Love enveloping you in just about every facet of love that leaves you feeling safe, content, and at peace.

"…Loki…"

It’s on E's face plainly- the king’s audit, the whole Humpty Dumpty analogy I’ve played up?  It’s dead on. I had a feeling I was pieced together- some things didn’t add up. And looking at E, it confirms it.

"How bad? Can you tell?"

"Wait…how bad what? What’s wrong…is he O-Are you OK?"

Dean actually showing concern…Click. Yeah, I’m keeping that for a rainy day.

"His…’hall pass.’"

"Wait..his.. _what_?”

"You’ve spent enough time to know how much slang and vernacular Loki uses…helps him blend in."

Their lips set in a firm line from, no doubt, remembering our early trysts. Ahh, memories.

"There’s a number of us that have them…protections."

Those guys…they’re the gift that keeps on giving. They shoot me looks that scream, ‘Come on?!’ and I simply shrug.  Like they aren't warded up.  Anything to keep myself from getting perished. Didn’t seem to do the trick with my brother though- or maybe they did? Upside? Upgrade options this go around. I hope.

"And what…Loki’s are gone?"

I watch E cock their head slightly, still looking at me and I can’t help but grow concerned because they still haven’t told me how bad…and that could be seriously bad. E casts their glance to Sam, I think the change of their eyes give the trio a small start.

"Not completely, but they’re…mangled. Do they even work…if only a little?"

"I think they mimic Fortune and Luck. You know me, I’m adverse to too close a shave. I’m here, because, and you can still count it one one hand by the by, I need your help. I get em fixed, then whoever can throw legions of those winged corncobs at me. May even break a sweat."

The boys aren’t too amused, but then again, they’re probably trying to not wonder why an archangel incognito needs a few power ups, since none of those ‘fans’ are in my league and they sussed out how E cultivates the whole picture of those around her.

"Thing is, I don’t know that’s the only thing not put right, so your whole audit schtick? On the nose."

I try to keep it light, but E's face has slowly fallen as it hits home- all of it. What came out after word got to those still around about the Elysian Fields. The typical amount of time that passed before I stroll into E's temple and gab about the looks on their faces. Them reminding me to reign it in so as to not go too far. Or telling me about the times some bozo learned the ins and primarily the outs of the Coda. You think I have an unique sense of justice- I didn’t get it all from Heaven. In the instants I get wrapped up about this, I realize I’m staring at nothing, E's not there. A beat later, E's in front of me, then pulls me into an embrace. I don’t register my return, it’s that damn near automatic. E..Enkare...Os..they're family to me. Lucifer may have slammed me about my ‘family,’ the one I chose-mankind and a number of the Pagans still left but I can always come home to them. Kali may want to maim me in thousands of ways and I’d deserve it, but in the least, she’d let me try to apologize. Then possibly make me work to get back on speaking terms and even if I blew it and there is no speaking terms? She tried to flame broil Luci and that’s enough for me, no matter how dead she thought I was. Or if she ends up being pissed at me for my deceptions until she and/or I cease to exist. I still choose them.

'Loki..”

The voice is soft, in a lower register, but that doesn’t take away the gentleness of it. I open my eyes and see Cas.

"You said time is sparse…"

I’m not ready to end our embrace, but hey, if it all goes to plan, there’s time for that after. Like say, during the celebration that I’ll insist happens when we wipe the streets with those bags of dicks.

"Yeah," I clear my throat as E puts some air between us, "I didn’t think they’d find me that quickly. Maybe that’s my hall pass losing its juice, I dunno. That’s why I’m here, Os, claiming Sanctuary. Honest truth, there wasn’t that many to start. And continuing with that, you really that surprised someone has it out for me this much? C’mon, this is  _me_  we’re talking about.”

I see that smile, the one I can summon damn near effortlessly. It’s its own kind of mojo.

"So, you need the temple while you fix it?"

"That kind of all depends.."

E's brows furrow slightly, “on what?”

"Cate."

I didn’t expect E's face to fall again, but there was no mistaking the way their lips part or the anguish on their features. I forget to breath for a second.

"No.."

E makes a quick a movement, assurance blossoms on them as they speak, “No, it’s not like that…” but E's elaboration marks my relief premature.

"I can’t summon her here Loki."

"Why, what happened? You’re one the very few that has the closest thing to a direct summons; and that’s saying something."

"A promise."

"Wait…your word? You gave Cate your word about summoning her?!"

I hear Dean confer with Sam and Cas, “That sounds bad, why does that sound bad?”

"It’s like the favor Os gave you. It’s binding."

I mimic Dean’s double-take toward Cas; realizing that it's pride. I'm proud of him.

"Wait..just so we’re following. You need this Cate person, to fix the hall pass, the one that made you one of the biggest pains in Sammy and I’s collective asses? The one that’ll power you up so you can help us gank those dicks out there, and you have no Plan B? That about cover it?"

"Look Rocky, it’s not that simple. Plan B with Cate is a fool-proof exit strategy," off their looks, "It’s not like any summoning you guys have done. There’s no glyph or sigil that’ll protect you once you cast it. And that’s if you even know the summoning to begin with."

"Wait.." he starts, but I look at E, "Why would she ask that of you?"

E motions to the window that’s still streaming the side by side live feeds, “Because that is happening the world over.”

That’s when it starts to make sense. Ouch, does that make sense, but it’s OK, because I have Plan D for Devastatingly Awesome.

"Then get me close. I know the summons, may have to owe you a thing or two, but I’m good for it. Get me close and I can help clean up my mess."

I didn’t expect the look E gave me, moreover the rejection. Also, kind of hurt at the surprise the Boys are emanating too. Did they conveniently forget the part where I took one for the team?

"I can’t."

"Why?"

For the first time since we’ve known each other, and believe me, we’ve known each other a long time, I can’t read them. E, by nature, is an open book. Speaking plainly and maybe that’s part of their gift, or that’s just part of E. I dunno. I just know that E's consistently benevolent despite been given thousands upon thousands of reasons to open bunkers of Smite and be justified. Or maybe that’s me talking. Double lives and all that. I search E's face, then their eyes and I see an ache I barely know.

"Loki…the world…after what happened that night in the Elysian Fields, when we thought you gone, for good?"  
  
There was a weight to E's gaze, and as heavy as it was, it was also gentle as their eyes never flinched from mine. The pause felt like it defied the passage of time before E spoke next, “The world was  _dying_..”

She motions to Team Freewill, what’s left of it, “They may have had the chance to try and relay how bad it’s gotten in the time you’ve been gone, I don’t know. What I do know is when they managed to pull it from its Death Roll? For many? That didn’t matter. And the fight to get even that far, to stop the End of Days, it cost. Like all wars do.”

Another pause of silence. I can feel the cooling damp the memories of that fight envelope Dean, Sam and Cas. E's words are hitting them in a particular way, and E's not even doing that on purpose or being cruel. E's speaking plainly, and may, out of kindness, be purposely zoning them out. I do know E's intently focused on me.

"I know you’re you. I knew it was you the moment you stepped foot in my domain. And we both want to believe that’s your cunning leading you, because it’s just good tactics."

A wistful smirk claims my conscious hearing those words, “But, with your marks being the way that they are? Loki, as far as the rest of us that stay somewhat plugged in? The only pagan that survived that night was Kali. You invoke a summons and she may kill you thinking you’re an impostor. But that’ll only be after she extracts the how they got that far in their counterfeit first. You know her like I do. “

Out of the corner of my eye I see it. Dean has one arm across himself, the other uses it as a rest, as his hand massages his face, like it’d work some of the mounting stress from it. And Sam? It’s written on him. I’d told them that E was one of the few pagans I knew that still had some heft. And when they predictably wanted something quantifiable, I told them that last time we hung out, E could hold me without the aid of holy fire- not long, but that is pretty impressive, no? That really rung their bells. I conveniently left out the part where she learned a lot of that from Cate. Naturally they wanted to know if that was the case, how come she wasn’t invited either, was it because we were tight? You see why I said it was hard enough to get them to stow it so I could get to the one place I was certain I could take a time out and try to regroup. OK, honestly, that was a little on me. I know them well enough to know I should have started with, you need to help me get away from here and to a place that’ll contain the the angels on my six that are invoking a scorched earth tactic in their pursuit. I mean, I got there, eventually, but yeah, next time, open with the whole, people will die horribly part first.

"Like you said Os, not like me to make a mistake. A real one."

It took everything to not roll my eyes at the three of them, when they displayed their shock and disbelief.

"Hey, remember that time I took one for the team, that got me killed? Still not riding pine, in case you missed it."

I said it took everything to not roll my eyes, means I had nothing left to waylay the sass. Priorities.

E looks at me for a bit, their gaze still showing a wisdom and understanding that only comes with eons of life, but I realize what E's doing. And I smile. Bout as close to a thank you that’s gonna happen with Dean “I’m latching onto every little thing so I can throw at you later’ Winchester all ears and not but two Moose spans away from us.

I tilt my head to the side, let my smile widen, outstretch my arms and give her a slight wink, "Heyyyy it’ll be fine. It’s me."

A laugh escapes primarily from an exhale through E's nose as they let their head cast down and eyes close, the mirth from E radiates enough that our proximity lets me feel it.

"That’s what I’m afraid of. Some things-"

I join in, “never change.”

"I can get you close. Just…listen. Because they’re here, I can’t go with you and vet you.  I need a little more time to button that up, and if your friends are game to help, even less."

Dean just locked and loaded in his mind. I’d put money on that. The surprise twist is I’m pretty sure Cas did too. Sam’s not looking too enthused, but I’d lay odds it’s for the same reason Dean’s ready to give my ‘bros’ reasons to curse their collective names. Never gets old seeing that.

"Now you’re talking. And uh, if there’s anyway to extend that Coda mojo out there..that’d be sweet too. Just sayin’"

He’s garnered a similar smile from E at those words as they continue,” I’ll keep them here, keep them thinking they have you surrounded. You summon her, and if for one instant something feels off, invoke me. You hear me?”

I feel their hands on my arm, then a surge of somethin- oh yeowza what what that?!

"Feels like you’ve been working out…that’s new isn’t it?"

"Round trip ticket," she taps the place where my skin is now prickling like it was anointed with peppermint oil, and my jacket and sleeve vanish from view. I see the inky marks of word-work and yeah, I’m impressed.

I whistle, “you have got to teach me that, you have any idea how handy that would be?”

E smacks me lightly, I notice the patch of clothing slowly slink off the magic and shield the word-work from notice.

"Invoke me, it’ll do the rest to bring you right back here. Plan B. I..we…deal with what remains of them, then we go to Cate and I can vet you. I’d make the case to just do that, but-"

Another longer pause than was…our usual. And I’m trying to not give anymore away to those three than I already have.  It’s just…weird.  We haven’t had our first group hug yet.

"Just save the charming self part until you’re sure she won’t destroy you, OK?"

"Cate won’t really believe otherwise unless I do. But hey, temporary hall pass. You got my back. I’m good."

"Cas…can you?"

I watch Sam and Dean look at Cas and process as they watch him walk in a direction, then adjust when a door opens, following the sound, then the light source. Dean licks his lips and looks at Sam, brows raised; likely he’s asking his brother silently if he likes this bit at all. And Sam’s response was likely a request to give the benefit of the doubt. Surely they remember the part where Cas said he’d met E before.

Cas’s footsteps focus attentions to him, then to E, who had coalesced some power, I could see its shimmer as Cas hands me the last three things I’m gonna need to make a particular call that could send me back to…well, wherever the hell I was after Luci stabbed me. I pat the word-work as reassurance.

"Give em hell, save one for me."

I give them a salute, well…my salute and watch as their image dissolves into a liquidy melt right out of Dali’s mind, then take look around. 

"Huanh."


	2. Sanctuary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The motley trinity of Cas, Dean and Sam find themselves hunkered up with GLoki's BFF, Os. A Deity of Love. As they pow-wow to keep the fallen angels that have laid siege to Os's domain occupied, they also get a differing perspective on the world's pagans. Notably, Os doesn't have a roasting spit with their names written all over it. Well, one that they'd -actually- use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we get to play with ideas of divinity. There'll be more Cas, I promise. Hang in there.

"So, where do you want to start?"

  
Dean looks from where Gabriel used to stand, then over to Gabe's pagan BFF before dwelling on Cas. He's hoping like hell they're not about to stumble on something Cas hasn't told them for whatever reasons he convinced himself of.  That it would be more along the lines of an opportunity hadn't given rise to it.  The lack of honesty...from  everyone, himself included, was getting friggin old.  

As soon as he finishes that thought, alarm stands his hair on edge. He uses the moment to calm down. It's a little too effective and he's not sure if it has to do with Os and whatever they do to keep people from violating the Coda or if it's him or both or that isn't even the point. The point is Cas looks a little like he's home. Wait, no that's not the-

"This wouldn't mean we'd be cashing in that favor, would it?"

Os chuckles a little and shakes their head, "Not really. Or, technically since I told you we could have a Q and A session, then you've garnered two and are cashing in a very specific one. Six of one, half dozen of the other."

Sam's face elongates a little as his lips are pulled into a facial shrug, highlighted by the simultaneous brow lift. He starts, beating out Dean,

"How long can you keep them from doing any real damage?"

"Hard to say. Best answer is: months."

In unison, "Months?"

"Why is that so surprising?"

"GLoki? He didn't quite clue us in," Dean multi-tasks as he refills the empty tumbler, sips it, which causes Sam to let his look linger.  
  
"I'd wager that had something to do with his adoring public"

Os smirks.  
  
"And that's without any of the long pig feasts?"

Dean's on the receiving end of a perked brow, "Long pig? I-" realization writes itself on Os's features, "Oh Elder Winchester, why do you think I wasn't invited to the Elysian Fields?"

"Same reason Loki wasn't" he offers.

"More or less."

Os takes a deep breath, uses it to accentuate an exasperation that's not directed at them, "Never ceases to astound me how egregious actions survive everything, only slightly shadowed by the truly epic. In answer to your question, yes, what I can swing is without any out and out sacrifice of a human, let alone eating one. Which, for the record? Gross."

They didn't exactly expect that and it shows. Off their looks, "If you must know, I love a roast wild boar. None around here, so it means going off to somewhere they call home and getting one"

"And you don't really leave your domain."

"Not long term."

"Why?"

"The same reason I've spent all this time making those seraphim believe they're laying waste to everything they set their gaze upon. These are my people Winchester, I keep them in my care."

"You understand we have a hard time swallowing the idea that you don't get anything out of the deal"

"That's just it, Elder Winchester, I do. It's just not to what you've grown accustomed. Ahhh, that's probably more like it."

The brothers follow Os's look which goes beyond them and their bodies give away a slight jolt. They're looking at something that's practically dead on with the bunker. They give each other a semi-panicked side glance, before slowly facing front again. That's when they notice the smile on Cas's face, moreover something that looks like content.

Dean's brow raises, and it's an almost automatic facial gesture to prompt his lips downturning. It's a variant of his 'this is bullshit,' expression. He motions with his arms, inhales deeply and eloquently squeezes out a 'What?!"

"Or perhaps we can start with: My temple, which is a Sanctuary and what that means. They're just a real as the table and the drink was. You're welcome to have a seat. It'll be a while"

Os is referring to the library-esque long table and the chairs that flank its sides. Dean's back to his gruff-laced, 'fine, we'll bite..for now' and Sam almost looks like a student eager to get class started. Dean takes a seat after Sam's already taken his and implores Dean to do the same. He takes a slight comfort in thinking, 'Nerdchester...' Cas looks alert, or a better way to describe it was, expectant.

 

Os materializes, seated comfortably on the tabletop, legs reminiscent of a meditative pose. Hands draw a circle before them, and their picture in picture live stream of the events outside shimmer within the drawn confines for their collective viewing. Os looks on at the carnage and their face looks saddened for a moment before it turns contemplative. Dean exchanges a look with Sam, who's across from him, they each follow with a side glance to Cas, who chose a seat between them, what most would call the head of the table.

They decide a moment's pause couldn't hurt- any time they could observe someone was a means to gain data. And it was nice when it didn't involve some kind of fight. But it had to be said, Os is Gabriel's BFF...as Loki for that matter.

They watch as one of the Os's hands moves from holding their face, fingers splay slightly above the picture, then they curl. In it, an angel looks to seize, he looks angry that he can't move, he shouts something, but there's no audio, then they notice his being is gripped with alarm. That's when they all notice Os's hand is clenched, yet they doesn't look like they take any joy in the action. The pagan before them still looks a bit contemplative before their finger snaps and the angel in Os's hold is now in the grips of a furious one partner tango. He even has a rose in his mouth that he tries to spit out but is instantly replaced. It starts to leave a trail of long stems in his tango-ing wake.

Os's head tilts a little to the side, as if analyzing the work and their face contorts in a manner that says, 'That'll work.'

That's when they notice Os's attentions are on them. Particularly when they watch as Os brings the hand to rest on their knee and look up only to meet a gaze that's near crystalline.

"Ok, I'll start," Dean says with hands widening in an opening manner, he motions to the picture, "with that. What was that?"

"Part of the deceit is to make them think Loki's here screwing with them. It's been a few years, but that still seems like a valid response. Feel free to make suggestions."

Dean's smile widens at their words, it drops a little at Sam's, "Dean..no."

"Really? You're going to sit there and try to sell me on the idea you want to take some high ground? Really?"

"No," he's a bit pointed when he responds, "I'm just sayin they might know us, so reign it in a little. The idea is to make them think it's Loki."

"I can do that," he looks at Os, "And vent some aggression that doesn't violate that Coda. And hey, bonus, cause it's healthy, right?"

There's no mistaking the amusement as Os hears him, "You don't have to convince me of anything Elder Winchester."

"Will they realize eventually he's not here?"

Sam speaks while focused on the viewer. His brows furrow and he blinks a few times watching the angels slowly go from destruction to dancing.

"If his word-work, the original that's mangled is losing its elements like he suspects, it's possible. Better to give too much credit than not enough. That's when I'll start to really work to keep them here and keep them from hurting someone. And if you're still game to take them head on, that is when I would need you most."

Dean's laugh has mirth in it, Os looks to him, he looks up, "Just funny to hear a pagan ask for our help. Loki led us to believe you were pretty suped up compared to the others..."

"You're fueling me right now, believe it or not. Seeing the two brothers they would hold accountable for their predicament would stoke their hate-fueled rage. Again, 'suping' me up. The end result is something they'd attribute to Loki, which would in the long run fuel him in some manner. As long as I've known him, I think he runs off a particular brew of chaos and its artifacts. But I've never been certain."

Another angel has started doing the Twist. Dean's face lights up at the thought of the possibilities in spite of the confession.

"That's why you don't need human sacrifices...since you're the Goddeh-.. Deity..of Love."

Sam's statement elicits a soft smile from Os as they start a ballet company,

Dean whispers, 'Black Swan," and nudges Sam's shin with the front of his boot when the company suddenly dons the tutus of the movie. Sam has a hard time not laughing, so much he nearly chokes on the air he tried to keep captive.

"A...I'm A deity of love. There's more than one."

"How many are there?"

"As many as there are pantheons created by the people that believe in them."

"Do all these people in these towns believe in you?"

 

"No. And that is what infuriates a number of pagans that are still around. I still draw power, which means I can wield it with abandon. In fact, what I have at my disposal is impressive given the time you could call my peak and now. Sadly, some of the increases in power I've been privy to relate directly back to the End of Days. Sorry, I know it's a touchy subject for you all. I'm not telling you anything you don't know about people and their priorities when things start to look bleak and hopeless."

There was a quiet between them all as they watched what some could recognize as a reenactment of a Jets versus the Sharks 'battle' from West Side Story. It brought some levity to the sanctum.

"It's the acts themselves. It's families and friends..it's...people."

Sam sounded surprised at his conclusion and a little confused.

"Aptly put Nerdchester."

Dean doesn't do anything to conceal the smug grin on his face.

"I hear some of their prayers, when they speak with their hearts. When they hope and fear and cast out to whoever they believe is listening, I hear them. I'm why this is the first time you've been here. I'm why none of my people die from that which you hunt and lay low. They don't survive here. They don't enjoy Sanctuary long because they find themselves cast out. And then they think themselves defrauded when I stay their hands against my people. 'God/dess/Deity of Love,' is the last thing they think of, barely realizing what something like 'love' can really rend. Even you thought my Favor was a nice gesture but impractical."

Dean shifts, is slightly startled when Os's attentions are upon him, "You don't know, what you don't know. And I have far more important things than whether you believe a Favor would be useful. Like ensuring you believe that I don't see a meal when I look at any of you or a bargaining chip."

"Fair enough. If I can be completely honest?"

"Speak plainly; I don't ask of you anything I don't ask of myself"

That prompts Dean a pause, but he continues, feeling mostly safe he's not putting them in danger, "We haven't seen anything beyond a few neat tricks, so..."

"Only fair. But, I am keeping your Impala in pristine condition."

"And I thank you for that. A lot."

"I know."

Os grins lightly.

"So...you just get your mojo by people...emoting certain things?"

Os's gaze shifts to Sam, "Best way to describe it. However I was empowered, I don't draw power from pieces of selves given to me. I draw when they give to others."

"Empowered? You weren't born a..god?"

"No. None of us were, we don't think."

"You've lost me."

"You ask a pagan how they became one and you'll know they're being honest with you when they answer in some variant of, not completely sure."

This seemed to get their attentions, even Cas's who'd been more enrapt with the live stream and a particular area to his left.

"What I remember is I think I had a family, before everything. I remember a life of spending the days working the land, celebrations not too dissimilar in spirit of the ones there are now. I remember what many came to call a gift of the gods. Being a match-maker until I found myself averting wars between peoples in my region. I met the god many would call Set through that."

"Set?"

"Egyptian pantheon, one of a few gods attributed to aspects of war" Cas clarified. He returns Dean and Sam's stares, silently asking of them, 'What did I do this time? It was the answer to your question.'

"So he what, gets pissed off you thwarted a good war?"

"On the contrary. He didn't want war. If we keep talking about this, you're going to learn that there's a lot of things that got lost to both time and the recounting of what is now 'legends and lore.' Like how effective a deity of love can be in a battle, for instance."

The sentence is marked by a number of angels suddenly stone still. Their faces are composites of rage and fear as they are kept immobile.

"Red light, green light," Os clarifies before pushing forward. It wasn't the looks on the faces of the angels insomuch that whatever it was Os could do, they could feel it themselves a little. It had undertones of the warmth they felt when Gabriel implored Os to look at him, really look at him. It was on the deity's countenance as Os saw what they learned was damage, from either his encounter with Lucifer and/or his resurrection. There was a fierceness that laced it, a resolve they tuned into, and a finality they understood that equally unnerved and made sense to them.

"He had a gift for strategy and tactics. And in spite of the protests of his people when they consulted him, he tried to avert a conflict. He was losing that battle when our paths crossed. And like..magic, the talks of war and conquering dissipated. I helped them reach mutual ground. Set and I found we weren't dissimilar. What we could do started to manifest quickly when our people would throw out phrases similar to, 'gift from the gods,' and 'blessed.' That would morph into a phrase most commonly know as 'demi-gods.' As time forged ahead, that turned to 'gods.' And we found that as time passed, we were not subject to it as others were. More and more of us were made in this gradual rise. Our feats passed among the people in tales and legends. Shifting as they do going from telling to telling. Were we born as gods? Perhaps. Perhaps we appeared as human, lived as human, to know what it was to be human. Perhaps we were made, turned from human to god. A fun riddle is to puzzle which came first, the god or the myth.

"I have to ask, and you know how I feel about this, so, just..but what happened to make so many into...why is it every pagan we came across...Loki included, we needed to gank."

"Loki's his own category. He has a habit of doling out retribution that ends with lethal results. Which I wager was how he got on your radar. Or, since he's fond of you, he may have lured the infamous Bogeymen to him."

Os continued before they could dwell on that, Sam makes a mental note to circle back.

"Power. You're granted the tiniest bit right now in comparison. Think about it. I've told you there is basically no limit. If you want that ballet company in full Black Swan regalia, I'll do it (mainly because it entrenches the belief Loki's toying with them). It's easy to keep going. The most seductive thing about this is your sense of justice. All of you have so little of hesitance because these seraphim are trying to decimate three towns of people and for what? Nothing. No matter what they say, they direct their wrath because they can. It has no focus beyond sharing their pain instead of directing it at those truly responsible. That is just the start. Many of them may also have had a hand in one of the costliest battles you all have had to date."

They exchange glances, then cast their eyes upon the viewer, each in their own contemplation as Os's words settle into them.

"When you grow so accustomed to a way of life, you loose sight of time."

"As in, time's up?"

Dean looks over at Os; Os returns in kind, "As in it's time to stop," the cadence of their words slows, putting a gentle emphasis on each of them.

"Many of my siblings never understood it's not about adulation. Does it give us power? Yes. If there were a body of people that suddenly believed in me as me, it would be a formidable power up. But they believe in love. They believe in passion, because they feel them. They live them. They are  _real_   to them. Adulation gave us power because people prayed to our likenesses, solid in their faith that we existed. The belief in us came from seeing us capable of wielding our gifts. When tales of us extended beyond our tiny encirclement of lands, belief in us came from our answering. Power is a double sided blade. There were a number of us that forgot how we started. Or they thought adulation was the only way to stay as they were. The sacrifices you've come to know? They come from desperation."

Os watches the viewer, flicks a finger that reminds Dean and Sam of a tablet, the view changes like they were alternating between camera feeds.

"They were their own downfall. Maybe that was why we started as human, or believed we were until we realized we were something else. Because they forgot their pledges. They forgot the reason humankind believed in us to begin with. And eventually-"

"they, humans, had the courage to forsake the gods."

Cas spoke softly, his blue eyes lift from the viewer to Os.

"The gods that remain? You've met those that still hunger...and that is not an accidental word choice. And it would seem I am of the first you've met that did not completely forget the start. I remain as other gods and goddesses of love do, because mankind has not forsaken it. Gods of war remain because most of them are gods of a particular wisdom that still holds worth and relevance. Gods attributed to nature remain because they were attuned to the lands and waters and they didn't forget that, nor has humankind. They conquered their fears when newer gods came into being, when faiths of mankind shifted, because some elements of life? They don't change. Love, hate, passions, exuberance, melancholy, celebrated qualities and personal traits are timeless. "

Os casts their glance at them, resting on each of them as they watch the viewer, or pretend to at times.

"Blow your minds enough for the time being?"

Os' smirk brightened their face as they looked at them.

"You said Loki may have had it out for us from the get go? That we were...Bogeymen?"

The deity's eyes lit up, joy made Os face beam, making you forget Os was a being whose age was..hell they could be older than GLoki...

"Oh that's right. I now have those bragging rights too. I had the Winchesters, a name that is whispered for fear of invoking you, here, in my Temple. I'm sorry, but there is no way I'm not going to milk that."

"Just keep us scary OK."

"Oh don't worry Elder Winchester, I would never tame either of you."

That made them slightly uncomfortable. Their idea of what a deity of love should be warred with what they were experiencing themselves.

"Bogeymen?"

Sam's question perks his brows. It's probably because he and Dean are both thinking that there's hardly a time they can recall that once they made themselves known, a monster ran off in fear. Usually it bolstered them.

"I'm certain I've given Sanctuary to a countless number of beings that heard you were near by and didn't want to die."

The exhaustion in Dean's voice carried through into his whole body. He knew it. He knew it was too damn good to be true. Metatron powers down Cas, Gabe's short circuiting and could possibly go back to being dead and his BFF is Switzerland when it suits.

"Please tell me you haven't protected one of those sons of bitches that was out killing people..."

"Oh I'm sure I have."

This almost breaks Dean, at least it looks like it the way his head jerked. Sam's reaction would lead to the same conclusion, his brain refused to process that. Or it may have been the confession that he'd rather be dealing with GLoki.

"...."

The silence was endmarked with Dean's "WHAT?"

"Think about it. If they're in my domain and ask for Sanctuary, they get it. It's a sanctuary. All those in it are in its protection, until they themselves become that which others need protection from. How long do you think a being lasts, the kind you kill, in a place like this?"

Dean and Sam's regard for Os betrayed they were still on alert, their faces somewhat stony, despite the knowledge that how much they loved or hated the idea of Os, mainly they may have an ally and a powerful one at that, would leave them wide open to the deity.

"What happens when the ah, ban hammer comes down on one of them?"

"They're out in the cold."

"And you what...knowing that, or better yet, how much they're gearing up to kill someone."

"Elder Winchester, please take this as coming from a guardian. When someone in my domain looks to be trespassed against, I get violent."

There was a finality to their words that was eerie. Despite that it wasn't spoken in firm tones, and Os's voice never raised nor was purposely evenly modulated. It was soft, kind even. It was the sound of a honesty that did not but could exact blood.

"As I said before, those particular beings don't last long in my domain."

"So it's kosher that we still don't know how we feel about you, right?"

"Dearheart, I'd be remiss if it was any other way. We've just met."

"It's just weird. And we've seen weird."

He motions to them all, Sam and Cas nod, "We've seen plenty weird..."

"It's my temple. It's throwing you off."

"Come again?"

"There's no other shoe to drop. The Coda applies to me as well."

That really broke something in their collective grey matter.

"Wait. What...t'how does that even work?"

Sam and Dean ask for the how almost in unison. Dean motions to the the viewer, because that clearly looks like something that would, at the very least, give a warning Os was about to get evicted out of their own digs.

Os quotes themselves, " 'If you draw...draw in defense.'"

Os lets it sink it a moment, then presses on, "This is my domain. They're attacking without provocation. Even though Loki is...Loki, he claimed Sanctuary and did so cleanly. By their actions alone, they can't even get close to where we are physically."

"This is quickly becoming a favorite place. I just want that on record."

"How do you claim Sanctuary cleanly?"

"Simpler than you'd think Sam, by not meeting your aggressor on their chosen field."

There could have been record scratch, and might have been, had Gabriel been around, just for kicks.

"Wait..running. Is that what you're basically saying?"

"There are many wise people that state someone has become something's master, when they avert an action before it even starts."

Dean rubs his face with his free hand, "you probably know this already, or part of it- it's been that kind of day already, and it's far from over...in simpler terms?"

Remarkably his tumbler has still only been nursed. Dean's eyes glance down to two angels, each having been made into a one person Tango machine. He makes a twirl motion and a beat later they pair up, doing a ballroom waltz, both still with a long-stem rose in their mouth that they can't get rid of. His smile is one of pure joy.

"Loki knew the threat, he found his way here and asked for protection, knowing well that should they follow, it would be folly. He knew if any of us would know he's him, it'd be me."

"And that's not because you're BFFs. It's because of your gift."

"Indeed. Nerdchester."

The tease is wrapped plainly in a fondness, and seems to be received in a similar fashion. That's when he notices. Dean's drink, Cas being patience and frustrationless incarnate. And himself, he knows why this all feels familiar. It feels like the library at Stanford.

"That's not all Sanctuary grants...is it?"

OS smile widens, Dean's face wears a bit of alarm. It's the way Sam said it.

"Freedom, I believe is the best generalization."

"From what...exactly?"

There it was again, the hardened guard slowly coming to the fore.

"Worry. Anxiety. Constantly being on alert..."

Os lets the silence take the room. Watched as they shared looks with each other.

"You decide on your own merit and time. But I built this sanctum to house the weary, the scared, the forgotten, and the defenseless. At many points in humankind's lives, they need a break. And they get it. Whole hog, I believe is the phrase."

"So what do we need to make sure we don't end up never wanting to leave here," he motions to the viewer, "this'll keep happening. It'll need stopping."

"Yourselves."

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose. For someone that says they're so open, Os is frustratingly cryptic. When he opens his eyes, he's comforted to know Sammy's face bears a similar expression.

"Look," Sam starts, "it's not that we're not appreciative that you're cool with us basically interrogating you-"

He stops a little short seeing Dean's face practically scream, "...don't use the word interrogate, not with with a go-deity."

His answer is accompanied with furrowed brows, "Dean...we're not exactly an encrypted drive she's...tthey're hacking."

Dean licks his lips while drawing in a breath. He all but mutters under his breath as he exhales, "Don't remind me. Trying to not dwell on that."

Os waits, taking requests from Cas as he supplies them, the amused bearing on their features birthed from a mix of that and Dean trying to waylay how naked he feels knowing that at any moment a deity could just lay out all his cards on the table. Now's not the time. Angel ass to kick and all that. No, stop it. The more he wasn't liking it the more he felt like Os was taunting him the same way she..they taunted GLoki. Ok, that was pleasant thought. Heh...'Fond Foxy.' He was never, ever, letting that go.

"Fellas, it's a sanctuary. Just reflect on what that is for a moment. It's protection. You're so used to it being from a particular source. It's from all sources. You're not ancy about the seraphim out there killing people. Because they're not. Because you believe me when I say I will destroy each feathery micrometer of them if they come close. Not when or if they harm my people- before they even finish taking the first step towards it."

Os's tone has the same almost eerie quality as it was when they first spoke of protecting their people. It's honest and perhaps the undiluted fullness of it is what strikes them out of place the most. It's not creepy and it doesn't invoke a fight or flight response in either of them, but it does stoke a survivalist kind of caution. Cas watches intently, yet he's not been as off-balanced as the Boys have been. They don't miss it but they're still trying to get some solid footing on dealing with the deity before them. Point of fact, all they're missing is a few more drinks, some eats, and you'd think they were having a get-together. And incidentally enough, it looks very much to them like working a case, with the people they sought help from. Minus everyone having their beverage of choice and food.

They catch it in their periphery, something well honed over the years. It slowly materializes, they notice the table seems bigger. Before Sam and Cas, a pitcher and empty glasses. Before the three of them, within arm's reach, a modest 'buffet' of quick bites.

"Still kind of freak-out worthy, I'm sure you know that though"

Os just smiles at Dean.

"That's part of claiming Sanctuary. You make it your Sanctuary. And, it may come as little surprise, but yours is very unlike the multitude of others made here."

Dean shoots Sam a look, "Hear that...unique. Again."

Sam returns Dean's look, "Joy."

"Oh Brothers Winchester. You've lasted this long. Deep down you have to know there are parts of you that separate you from others."

"You've..well, you're probably getting a really good idea of how much."

Os motions around.

"It's rare... _listen_...this is a good kind of rare. For a change."

Dean and Sam hold a look for a second, almost like they were placing a bet to how much they'd find this to be 'good.'

"It's not a usual occurrence for people to share the same idea of Sanctuary. Especially three of them."

They blink, Sam and Dean look at Cas, and he looks to either of them, they're all witnessing the other being equally dumbfounded.

"Which is nice, I can vest the energies I'd use to conjure a version, making the whole collaboration we're having easier, elsewhere. Once Loki was on his way, your sanctuary came together quite seamlessly."

They take it in, how much this looks like the bunker. It's not an exact replica, but the overall representation couldn't be missed. There were books and boxes of intel around them, giving off the appearance that an answer to a question was just in arm's reach. The table beyond where Os sat had books and papers strewn about, like they were in the middle of something.

That's when Dean remembers the nursed tumbler, specifically, he'd do that when he wasn't able to sleep. Thumbing through one of the books or dossiers that grabbed his fancy. That's when he realizes that Sam has stacks just behind him, and that the stacks beyond Os had his handywork on them or that he's got a glass of some kind of hippie grass smoothie by him. That's when he realizes there's two books near Cas, and they're the ones he was vested in before GLoki came knocking on their door. That's when it sinks in that he's got no real urgency. That even though the knowledge is there, that the instinct is there, it's not tearing him apart. His head is a particular kind of quiet. A focused kind. Make them think Loki's screwing with them. Enjoy the temporary break that was the angels still being smacked down, but they weren't having to do the heavy lifting.

He just shares looks between his brother and Cas. He's seen part of them also noticing small things. The food items, the beverage choice, how similar this whole scene is to them, minus the deity on the table.

"I haven't earned your blind trust so when I say, you can come and go as you please- you'll come to trust that, when you've come and gone as you pleased. Whatever impression you have, I interfere little. Your leaving by invoking the Coda? I intervene to try and stave that off, as you've witnessed."

"And that's the only time?"

"Course not. You endanger my people, I intervene. You ask of me, and I may," off their looks, "depends on the asking. I wasn't born last century you know."

"How...how old..are you, if you don't mind my asking?"

Os just smiles at Sam, "It can be measured on the order of millennium, Nerdchester."

Another silence drifts over them, unsettled by the half-hollow sounds of glasses being set upon the table, or a plate shifting slightly. Food was good at least. Perhaps it's a nice perk to being in the temple of a deity that could tune in to the things you really love, like the art of a lightly toasted bun that tells your brain your tastebuds were about to hammer it with sensations of the perfect medley of meat, carbs, and toppings. Washed down with a smooth brew cooled to its optimal perfection.

Dean taps his finger on the tabletop. They look at Cas, and he's just signaled 'Jazz Hands' to Os. A moment later some Broadway revival is coalescing before them in the viewer.

Dean blinks a few times, he's already too late to not be taken back to a booth in a diner, referring to Cas as a baby in trenchcoat. Though in complete honesty, it's the first time he's seen the former angel at ease. There may be something to this.

"I guess we're at an impasse then. Until these jerks are dealt with."

Os shrugs.

"You wouldn't be the humans that go bump in the monsters' night if you were of any other mindset Winchesters."

Sam shares Dean's look, 'Fair enough."

He lets his gaze slide over to Cas, who's thoroughly amused with the Chorusline idea he offered.

"What about River Dancing?"

When he sees the mildly surprised look from Sam, his face compresses slightly, "C'mon, s'got Loki written alll over it."

Sam stares a moment longer, the muscles in his face highlight the bone's contours as he silently muses.

Dean takes it as it's settled, "I'll take River Dancing for $500, Os"

No one misses the genuine chorals in his laugh moments later. Or theirs for that matter.


	3. A Walk in the Clouds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Os has sent Gabriel close to where Cate's supposed to be. He pulls a trick from his bag to locate her as quietly and uneventfully as possible. That leaves the arch angel incognito with a lot of silence and time on his hands as he continues his journey to get himself back in optimal condition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gabe heavy. We get a glimpse of his life between registering he was back on Terra Firma, how he's filled in some of the holes created by being gone for six years, and having made it as far as finding TFW, then getting his lovable roguish self to Sanctuary.

"Haunh"  
  
He looks around. His skin prickles a bit, which puts him back on edge. He missed Enkare's digs already. There it was, the tightness in his limbs, his chest, his mind going in the red zone of synapses per second. It takes a moment to put two and two together, why the prickling of his skin felt familiar and that it wasn't instinct telling him he was in immediate danger. The word-work. E gave him a little more than airfare back to her temple.

'Yep. As awesome as I remember. Right, so if I were Cate, what would I be doing here? Or close to here. Where the hell  _is_  here anyway?'

He surveys the area quickly, tapping into his grace, hoping like hell it'll play nice. He doesn't feel anything that lets him know one of his siblings, or any of heaven is nearby. Moreover, nothing that would lend to the idea of some entity wanting to end his existence. That's always a plus. There's something on the edge of his sense, he can't nail down what. That doesn't automatically mean it was him sensing what little can be sensed of Cate. Be that as it may, the coast was pretty much clear. Means he can get this show on the road. He takes a folded paper bag from the interior of his jacket. It's slightly larger than the old school sacks that're still used today, reads it over. In another pocket he's got a mixture of ingredients ready, stored in a makeshift container made from a shopping bag that'd been stuff in a recycling container. He taps into his grace again and reaches for a small piece of unprocessed ore, plucking it from the ether, still grateful his hidey holes are right where he left them and that he could still get to them. They hang in the air before him, freeing his hands so that he could work. Man, if some of his brethen could see him now. He takes some satisfaction with that thought and of the subsequent 'bite me, Luci' as he has the ingredients freed from their bag and poured into the paper sack with the inscriptions. He compresses them together, drawing in heat, funneling it to the mixture. He utters words in an old tongue, reading the inscription, the mix of flora and fauna effervesce, heat gives way to light. He utters more words as the near plasma-like concoction looms over the ore, reminiscent of molten metals. A moment later it covers it, cooling and forming an almost glass-like coating that would undoubtedly be mistaken for amber. The remains of the flora and fauna have twisted and bent, forming something close to runes. They're clearly pictographs of some sort. He utters another set of words and the ore shoots to his right. It remains until Gabriel plucks it from the air. A few of the pictoraphs glow softly. He tests it, taking a step in any direction other than indicated and the 'compass' dims then goes dark. He steps in the direction it indicates and the glow returns.

'Guess whoever just couldn't not keep that part of me at bay,' he muses.

He does another quick search, to make sure the spell didn't draw any attention. Satisfied it was just him and nature, he heads in the direction indicated on his compass. While he understood that you just don't leave a means to summon lying around, he was quite biased in the idea that he should just able able to call her, have a private line or a direct line. Except that having the Guide and the summons were pretty much the 'direct line.' And since he had no guarantee she wouldn't smite him before he could plead his case, this was just the smarter thing to do. Sure, he could have hung out with E, help them take care of those asswipes, and then say 'Ya miss me?' to Cate when they show up at her current doorstep. Problem was, there's going to be a lot more to it than that. He frowns. Cate was pretty much a last resort. Best place for the layering of protections, sure. But if she couldn't point him in a direction to figuring out how he's here, then...he doesn't like to think about it. That's an unknown that needs to be known. It needs to be something he can see coming. He needs to know he's him. Completely. Besides, when he proves to Cate he's him, she'll want to know the same thing the Winchesters did. The same thing E does but was too kind to ask just yet. But E will. And he doesn't have to give them one. Well, Cate yes, because that's just good tactics. But the Boys, Cas, E? He doesn't have to, but he probably will. The point is, he wants that choice, not a default 'I don't know what gives.' It damages his reputation and if a faux pagan doesn't have his reputation, where does that leave him? He smirks lightly at the thought. To help pass time, he lobs the compass up and down in the air, a misshapen orb slightly bigger than golf ball as he trudges onward. Occasionally, he ceases long enough to check that he's still headed where he needs to go before resuming.

'But honestly, what is it with the woods? Always crossed her path in the woods. Doesn't help with the stereotypes...'

Imagine his surprise when it leads him to a road.

'E...'

Now wasn't really the time to have some laughs at his expense, but he had to admit, since it wasn't easy to get one over on him, he owes E a compliment.

He takes out the phone he, uh, relieved someone of. Though technically his 'brother' wouldn't really need it anyway. He notes the life of the battery and fiddles with the menus until he finds a mapping application. The slow loading makes him all the more aware of his growing impatience. He felt like a sitting angel out here. And he was, if the past however many weeks were anything to go by. He didn't remember his first dance with going on the lam being this complicated or exhausting. And he was him. That was saying something.

His eyes rest on the map before him, telling him he was a few miles outside of some town. He consults his compass and it's telling him to go northwest. To do so, he'd...

A breathy half snort escapes his nostrils.

He just needed to follow the road; according to the map it'd keep him heading in the right direction. Ok, so maybe E wasn't messing with him and actually dropped him outside of a town Cate may be circling, so to speak.

Still alert and trying to not jinx his brethren free side trip, he can't help but wonder. He's also a touch worried. E was a kind of heavy hitter compared to a lot of the pagans left, but he's not certain he's told himself that so much he believes it to be true- that he didn't leave his BFF hanging out to dry. He gets a cold hollow feeling when he thinks about the Elysian Fields and how relieved he is that E didn't follow his lead by showing up. Hell, conflict resolution is kind of E's thing. He's more than glad E wasn't there. But there's a small host of angels laying siege in Enkare's domain and the longer they don't produce results, the more likely that number increases. Like effing locusts.

His demeanor hardens a bit. He's also far from OK knowing that he popped in and essentially bugged out, leaving a bunch of angry angels swarming around them. But they can't ever get to the temple. They may be many in number, but collectively, they were fools all the same. I mean, how do they think he walked the earth incognito for so long? He saw this coming light years away. Well, not exactly, but if it wasn't for him being on the fritz, the whole endeavor would have been a non-starter. In fact, the only problem he'd have would be keeping his ideas fresh as to what to do with his baby brothers and sisters when they needed a little time out. But he's not one hundred percent and he can't even begin to suss out what exactly that means. At least his ability to play chess still seemed intact. And it helps that his brethren are pretty much ignorant when it came to what exactly they face when they do go up against a pagan like E. He's really looking forward to the stories. The one thing he was sure of was E wouldn't let them cause any harm to their people. He just wasn't so sure how things would look once the dust settled. No sense in worrying, sense in pressing forward. He gets his protections fixed and he can repay E eleventy fold. Ok, the Winchesters and Cas too.

He kicks the dirt as he presses forward. He hasn't had to go bipedal like this in ages either. But his presence, from what he can tell, he may as well fire off signal flare after signal flare, nevermind tapping into and using his Grace. Who knows what he'd be face to face with if he just appeared outside of Cate's...door? Hovel? Parking spot? He, much like E, has his own refuge. Except he doesn't think he's ever been close to Cate's. Fair enough, E never really has been to his. Then again, his refuge tended to be more mobile anyway.

He keeps a weather eye out, tapping into his Grace lightly and only enough to give him a decent head's up to danger. He was so flipping tired of this. But this last piece...this last move on the old board and he'd be right back to where he was. Maybe. Hopefully. He didn't miss the way E looked at him. Granted he'd asked E to really take a look at him confident that E wouldn't look much past his markings. And that anything that looked semi-screwy, well E'd attribute that to the protections he had done. And that seemingly came undone or mangled. Wow, that was a good word for it. Mangled. He felt it.

That's not what's really bothering him though, is it? No, what's bothering him is the passage of time. That he's had such a hard time grasping it. Because that's just plain weird. It's almost like he was sucked outta where-ever and he wasn't supposed to be able to fill in details. But he can. He thinks. Nothing a ton of questions wouldn't help fix, but that's just not good tactics. Sure, Dean latching onto E's pet name is a grand example. But that'll just lead to some annoyance and mostly temptation for some payback. It wouldn't kill him. Held under some scrutiny after being incommunicado for years? His cover as a pagan may not hold up to that. He's lucky E didn't catch on. But that 'splainin? Attributing anything kooky on the word-work? That's not going to get a lot of mileage. Part of his charm, however any one takes it, was being able to seem taken care of, only to pop up later, complete with smug smirk as the other side seethes. Or rolls their eyes. The other variable in this was Kali. He had what he knew to go on, but with the End of Days approaching, maybe she changed a bit. She'd always been devoted to her calling, to the people that worshiped and exalted her. She was another that spoke plainly, when she chose to speak. He has no idea if his true identity was spoken of. E didn't act as if it had, but he has faith...heh, faith, that it wouldn't matter to her.  How's that for irony?

So yeah, his audience for the fifty million questions needed to be limited to beings that wouldn't use it against him. Hell of a thing to be alive again only to perish so soon after. Not his style. The whole being back works for his overall mythos and he'd milk that, oh would he ever. Thing was, if he can just avoid the interrogation and get fixed up, that'd be ideal for him. No, the Winchesters probably wouldn't let it up. And OK, they threatened to reveal him, but it was a chess move. A good one too. Ultimately though, he doesn't believe they'd out him without an angle. And he doesn't blame them. Hell, he played up not trusting a pagan to his own advantage, he's kind of partly to blame. A little.

No, he presses on, just a little longer. Ultimately, the risk was worth it. May even help reign in some of the weirdness he's being subject to. Like a rerun of some of the Boys' misadventures. At least, he thinks they are. Seems like it. Seems a lot like something those muttonheads would find themselves in. Then there was the opening and closing of the cage. He had a twisted sense of retribution, and that may skew his sense of right and wrong...on occasion, but if that particular rerun was even a quarter of the real deal, then holy hell. He was sorry he couldn't shiv Luci's ass. Man, the look on Mikey's face would have been priceless. So would the subsequent ones born out of frustration when he dodges each and every attempt to punish him for it. Oh man, the thrills I could've had with that. Didn't deserve being thrown in the hole with Lucifer though. No one does. Not after being shoved back into it.

He frowns, thinking about the flashes of scenes, the dreams, the day dreams, the ever growing torrent of things, like he was downloading what he supposedly missed. That was the best way to describe it. A lot of it was the Winchesters, Cas even. Some kid that looks like he could use a few dozen hot meals and a deep tissue massage, aka just about every prophet ever. Grumpy was there, or he wasn't. Nah, he had to still be in the picture. He got his legs under again after all not that it waylayed his lethality. And Crowley...what a slippery eel that one was. He could spend hours screwing with that guy. Hell, he'd probably have to promise to let Dean and Sam know when he was going to kill some time toying with his Hellness so they could bear witness. Problem is, a part from laying eyes on the Boys, on Cas, on E? All that stuff crashing his thoughts could be anything. Could be a product of his mangled protections. Could be the product of his necromancer deciding they didn't need any friggin instruction manual to adhere to. Now that will be a satisfying day. Turning whoever they were on their head and making them sorry. As time passes for him now, the daily progression of memory building and experience, he's growing all the more certain there was less benevolence in his come back tour. Which is cool. He's no one's puppet. And here shortly, hopefully, he'll prove that.

He lets his gaze settle on the compass, then lets it hang in the air as he walks. He checks his surroundings every now and then, long enough to verify that yes, it was still a one being show so far. Plus what he hoped was Cate. It may very well be whatever brought Cate here. That left him a little cold. Sure, he knows a few tricks, but if any his suspicions on Cate's 'deal' held any substance, then whatever it was was likely old. Then again, there was this six-ish year period that happened after his brothers tried to end the world, so those details may just be useless. Having a talk with Cate could been even more of a fools' errand than it used to be.

But it's his last option. Enkare could probably keep helping with a temporary hall pass, but eventually, everything that was mangled needs to be set right. He has no idea what it could do. And that'd be a hell of a thing, being back on this plain of existence only to possibly be something else completely and likely have very little say in the matter. It'd be different if he had a sense of connection, but that's just it, he doesn't. About the only time is when he's being bombarded with, what he guesses is playing catch-up on history. And with E, just now. Maybe the Coda interfered. It protects from everything after all. He'd wanted to go there because he knew it'd be the one place those bozos couldn't follow. It'd give him a chance to think a few steps ahead, verify a suspicion or two, heck get the Winchesters interested and seeing as they're still here and if Crowley did indeed own the those words, the ones about not being the only one to not underestimate those denim wrapped nightmares, unlike his brothers, Lilith, Azazel...well then that was a huge plus as far as he was concerned.

He feels the air growing thick and his entire being starts to vibrate lightly. The tightness in his chest, his limbs, it swells and spreads to his vessel's muscles. Every micrometer of his being is priming for an evasion, it's a well practiced reaction. He taps into his Grace lightly, and it's still him and that presence on the fringe. Despite his getting closer to the town, it was always on the fringe of his sense. But the thickness he's tuning into, he feels that only growing the closer he reaches for the town. That felt familiar, but he wasn't certain it was a familiarity born from recent pursuits, or from the few times he crossed paths with Cate.

A bright fusion of flushed heat and light causes his footing to falter. He registers taking a few steps to the side. He is instants away from blindly using his power until he sees a night sky. His perspective is looking upward, and in that moment, the heavens were filled with shooting stars. No...angels. Wait..no, what is-

He feels like he's falling, hurtling down, the earth below rapidly growing. At the same time, he feels his own feet firmly on terra firma. It's another one of those..those..things. He feels the impact against the earth, even though it's still only his feet in contact with the ground. He feels the pain...the physical brunt of it, but moreso, he feels the interior swell with confusion, pain, anguish and it's all giving way to fury, to rage. Then it starts over again. The falling, the view is different, the fear is similar, the confusion is similar, the impact with the earth is similar. The sensation of bringing oneself upright prods his own equilibrium, and then the same cocktail of emotions wash over him. Then it starts over again. He gets glimpses of Heavens, sees them cloud over and grow distant before it turns into the night sky. Sometimes he looks over and sees he is not alone. Sometimes upon seeing this, he's frightened that he's not alone. Almost every time he is alarmed that nothing he does stops his fall, that no matter how hard he reaches for home, it's denied. There are a few times fear grips onto him tightly as he registers he's falling, as whispers of Lucifer's name are barely thought in his mind. It gives way to terror and anguish, bewilderment and panic- what did I do?

He feels them, so many times over he loses count. He recognizes some of them, the ones that showed up, the ones that tried to end him. They knew him, the Trickster, and for a moment he was quite proud his reputation preceded him. In truth, hearing them call him a filthy pagan was enough to understand their trying to kill him. But hey, when you got shivved by _The_ Fallen, it was a tough act to follow, and he was completely uninterested in being dead again. He hadn't been game to being dead the first time. He thought that maybe there was a number of them, maybe they sided on the losing side and history sort of repeated itself, or more accurately, took its cues from a certain collection of scriptures. Sounded something like he'd do to a point, except for the part where he inflicted them upon mankind. Seeing that it was likely they weren't fans of Dad's new baby. But now, he sees that it wasn't a small number. No, it feels more like the remains of the entire Host. There's a name threaded through it all. Then another. And another...wait, his. Or rather, his pagan cover. It's after they've tried and failed to get home. It's after they seek, after they find...but he can't tell what that is. He just sees his own countenance, smirking. His more widely recognizable names Loki or The Trickster and they suddenly have a hard on for him. Well, that explains the fans...to a point.

He feels so constricted and his vessel's lungs may be burning from the carbon dioxide build up, it's almost like he's not in his vessel, but vaguely connected to it. Then it's over. It lifts from him as if he'd had a cover thrown over only to be snatched inhumanly fast from him. His lungs are burning and his limbs are heavy. He shouldn't even have his feet under him. Except he's so much more than human. He uses his Grace to heal his vessel, but it does little for him. He's shaking without his muscles contracting and releasing. That's what it feels like and he doesn't even know if that's even possible. So many. So friggin many. And a part from his pagan cover, there was a name that was undeniable, stained with vehement thought.

Castiel.

  

* * *

 

His pace is quicker than before. He learned early on that taking a time out to recover was not in his best interests. Here lately, he's not met with a fan that wants his existence, but that wasn't any reason to let his guard down. He needs to keep his head, and he's usually pretty good at not dwelling too much, so his attentions are at the fore. But this...this is...he has bits and pieces and Cas wasn't a Heaven favorite. He was, however, never a favorite for long in any given span of time; it went in phases. So he has no idea what to make of it other than he did something to turn nearly the whole host against him. Wow. It was progress...because nothing seals a divide like a common entity to unite against. But wow. Castiel? Seriously? He needs to have some quality time with his bro, he had some splainin to do. Probably a congrats was in his future too. If there was any merit to his latest new episode, then it meant the world has a new tenant. And it made E's words heavier. A few factions the world over was no light matter. But factions upon factions, fueled with a growing rage? And on top of that, gunning for him? What the hell was he tossed into?

Naturally he felt even more like a sitting angel. It was the downside to a good witness protection job, no one recognized you. That was the point of it after all. But it would have really made some things easier if they realized it was an arch angel they were trying to take on. Granted one that wasn't at his prime, not yet, but he could take them. If everything played nice. He notices the air feels thicker, he feels the unmistakable accents of power. Cate. It has to be. Or the reason this was a place she could be found. With his newfound knowledge, he suspect any conversation about how he feels different is going to be unpleasant. Hopefully in a non-physical capacity.

He sees the welcome sign for the town on the opposite side of the road. Now the question was, does he just use his Grace along with the compass, get within a few yards of her, or find somewhere he and eventually she could have some privacy. Hell, he wasn't even sure that setting off a summons wouldn't attract more attention. That would not be ideal, any of them showing up around the time she answers. If memory served, she wasn't fond of angels...or rather, seraphim as she called them. So that would definitely be a bad idea.

As he goes back and forth, weighing the choices, not really sold so much he easily chooses one over the other, he tries to maintain some composure and common friggin sense. The thickness in the atmosphere swells, his everything piques, his survival instincts on deck. It's not like him to not be dialed into some infallible confidence. Which was also a weird feeling that he most definitely did not like.

'I should trust what I know...'

Which means, the summons should be a last resort. It should always be a last resort. He didn't like being summoned, heck, it's safe to say no one that can be summoned enjoys it. You can't exactly refuse. You can put it off, but eventually, you're pulled to where-ever the summons was cast. Smart ones usually have a way to keep you from doing anything to them, apart from sneer or promise to make them rue their existence.

'Oh man, this is the kind of familiar I shouldn't be stoked about, but I am. Please let that be because this is nearly over...'

Those accents of power tell him some mojo, some pretty impressive mojo at that, was being worked. That  _had_  to be Cate. So the problem now is, how badly will he be interrupting? And how quickly can he pour sincerity into the statement of wanting to help. And then please fix my magic invisible tats.

He nods at a passerby, gives them a winning smile, all the while keeping his compass less conspicuous. The closer he gets, the harder that is because of the pictographs glowing. A little Grace can obfuscate, but may also blow up in his face...literally. Well, that would let her know something else was here. That could work. Either way, it's useless until he's opposite of her. And he totally doesn't look suspicious while casting glances around him before checking the compass. Not at all.

Screw it, right? Not like anyone of them- wait. Cate's big sell is the whole 'mystery' around her. She'd be pissed if he gums up whatever she's done to make whatever reason she's here not noticed. He scowls.

Crap, this is annoying. This is  _work_. Now I understand my pine-riding. Ooo, that's a bit tingly. That's..really? That can't be right. There's no woods. There's no seclusion. But that, that's not just any body of power either. Oh man, this'll be just thrilling...

He crosses the street, hand shoved into his jacket pocket wrapped around the compass. His free hand at his side as he walks to a motel and cruises by the front office. He ducks into the lot and takes a look around then reaches out and yeah, this has got to be it. Or he's about to walk-in on something that may pale in comparison to the fallen that're after his supposed pagan yet undeniably cute ass. He looks around again, growing uneasy because dusk it starting to paint the sky.

'This day just keeps gettin better...'

Casting a glance to the compass, he rotates his torso slowly, watching to see where the pictographs burn hottest. He walks quickly, solidifying his everything. He's nearly there. That's the thought that bolsters. After all the searching, all the trekking, all the scuffles and twists and dodges, he's nearly there. He's at the precipice of finally getting some answers and making sense of the continual mad libs his existence seems to be at the moment.

He still can't suppress the amusement he's about to knock on a motel door in Blink-and-You'll-Miss it town, and say 'Here's Loki!' to someone that...well, would send Marley and his spirits screaming for sweet, sweet, release. A motel. If he's being completely honest, he's quickly being overtaken with curiosity.

He knocks, shave and a haircut style, ensuring the compass in his other hand is in view as a means to prove that while she may not believe he's him, there's only a few ways he has that compass. Or more importantly, made it. Combine that with E's hall pass and this should hurt very little to not at all. He's hoping for the latter.

He feels something warp around him and coaxes his nerves. It's familiar, but he can't remember what it means. When he hears the chain and bolt, well, he's about to be reminded then, isn't he?

The door opens enough so that he's visible and he sees most of her. She's like he remembers for the most part. There is a tease of fatigue about her, but there she is. And he takes what seconds he has to make his case, transforming his trademark smirk enough to speak.

"Loki."

She beats him to it and he forgets himself a moment when he leans in with, 'Wh-hey-yyou."

He could've crumpled in a relieved heap seeing the raised brows, then her gaze thrown at the compass as if to say, 'Tell-tale sign...Trickster'

Instead he was a crumpled heap of pagel, his shoulders dropping,"You may or may not believe the day...actually days I'm having."

She looks at him, then looks him over, before casting her eyes to either side of him and beyond.

"It's about to get to even more unbelievable....wait there "

Well, he could sell E that no one, not even Cate can resist his charm. It was more believable that she recognized him in her own way, however way that it was. The more important part was he was instants from be cozied up somewhere that had some powerful protections. He hopes, that's usually how she rolled, as the kids say.

A moment later she's back at the door and motions for the compass. He starts to hand it over when it levitates and stops short at the entry. She holds an amulet of crystal and something else up, then touches the compass. He feels the surge of the transaction in his core, there's never getting used to feeling something in that manner. Much like when E envelopes you in aspects. He watches the pictographs morph, they start to resemble some familiar markings. It luminesces for a moment, then it's done. It's lost its amber appearance and teases to be a large opal, if they were translucent. He took it and put it back in his jacket pocket.

"Get in."

He didn't have to be told twice.

 

* * *

  
She walks ahead of him, the door closes behind them with a movement of her wrist and a whisper upon her lips. He feels it. A thrumming of sorts on top of the protections. He sees some of the pictographs line the top of the room's walls. If anything, he's in another type of sanctuary. These were the primary reason she was always on the fringe of his senses. The other part, he muses, has to do with the reason she's here. Someone or something's going to suddenly be having a bad day.

"How long?"

He hears her, forcing him to tear his eyes from the open door that divided this room from the adjacent one. He was positive he heard someone in there.

"Er..how long...what?"

She turns to face him.

'Did I just..flinch? I just flinched. Gabe m'boy you need to calm your nerves. This is beyond annoying and ridiculous.'

In all the times they were as they are, he's never felt as he does now. His flight or fight response is going hoarse right now. Why the hell was every bit of him screaming at him to get out of there?

"How long have you been back?"

"I know how long I've been gone. But back? Cate, I don't even know if I'm really here or if I'm getting another download and I'm sync'd with the avatar that sought you out."

Off her look, "I told you, it's been a helluva day. So far, I witness and killed a new race of monsters, dubbed them Jefferson Starships-' his face screws into a 'I don't even know' look, "and then I saved the Titanic from sinking just to wipe out that da-god-forsaken song out of existence. Then tussled with an angry Fate as a result. And to cap it off? Fell to the earth...so many flippin times and I have no clue why I would imagine myself a meteor shower."

Right ok, that last bit wasn't exactly true, but he saw her face slowly darken. He was going to keep the angels out of this for as long as he can, he knows how she feels about The Host.  Despite that, he helps himself to a seat. And collapses. He.was.tired.

He lets his arms dangle over the chair arms for a moment, then brings one arm to his face, using his hand to massage it like he was kneading sleep from it. His fingers settle near his nose, as if he were going to pinch its bridge.

"Cate...I remember Lucifer unmaking me," his hand falls from his face, looking right at her, "Then I'm in the woods. I don't know how long I was like that before I got a sense of where and more importantly when. There were no pagans, no Elysian Fields, no Lucifer, just woods. And fantastically stupendous me, realizing I'm alive. That's when the first little chaotic scream of things hit me and I'm literally picking me up off the ground. That's it, that's the start. And I'm not one hundred percent that's the actual start."

She watches him as he speaks, his gestures. He's uneasy because he can't read her. That's usually the moment where the poor bastard didn't see her coming. And right now he was the only thing in this room.

"You've been to see Enkare."

He nods, absently pats the word-work.

"It was just plain good tactics," he smiles while he wriggles his brows once. He sees her face go thoughtful, then her hand is out before her, speaking in a tongue he only recognizes by virtue of having been around her when she wields it. He's forward an instant later, arms wrapping his abdomen, the pain is searing. And it's familiar. He can barely choke out a groan.

"Nnngaph"

He manages to look up, hoping maybe, that this was her fixing, mending, triageing? Friggin hell it hurts. Then it stops. He takes a freeing breath, looking back up in her direction. He's certain her face is her equivalent of E's.

"I'm on the money aren't I, that something doesn't jive?"

She's moving towards him and he doesn't expect the hand on his shoulder, helping him to be more upright, he looks for something, anything.

"Your timing couldn't be worse Loki."

"Not exactly my plan. Then again, my recent plans always seem to nearly go haywire and you  _know_  that's not me. I left E in a bit of a pinch," off her look, "which is the truth of what it is and so's her telling me to go, she has it covered. Figured keeping a small army of those winged dicks occupado elsewhere would be plain good tactics too. I know how fond of them you...are..."

He shrinks back slightly, "Cate...? What am I missing...apart from my hall pass?"

It wasn't the cooling dark of her whole everything, it was the fingers spasming, teasing the formation of a clenched fist.

"Cate...?"

"Your meteor shower..."

His eyes widen ever just, mouth parts, "Yeah..."

"Seraphim.."

He holds her gaze for seconds as he calls back to the download from earlier. He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head slightly.

"So..it's real. It actually happened. I'm not having screwy hallucinations? There were so many I..beyond hundreds..."

He watches her, watches the cold fury ebb only a little. But more importantly, the near fists her hands made were becoming undone.

"They fell, like meteors. They pitted the earth and then some of them, scorched their paths."

He felt a hollowing cold hearing her words. They coalesced with E's.

"Yeah well, they seem to have the hots for me," he wriggles his brows, set at ease when it garners a perked eyebrow.

"I'd like to give them my undivided attention. Except my stuff? It's short circuiting."

"Like I said...your timing sucks."

"Hey...if I can help, let me help with whoever's about to have a worse day than me. E is keeping those wingnuts in her domain, so shouldn't be any of them crashing your, ah..whatever party this is about to be."

He watches her hold his gaze, then turn heading towards something like a makeshift alter.

"For all intents and purposes...I died in that hotel. Something's off about me and if whoever or whatever that put me back together is trying to pull my strings...I don't have to tell you how much I want to screw with that."

He can't read her back. Convenient.

"You want to help, stay put. Because when I'm done here, you're the quickest way back to a Sanctuary that tends to be stocked."

He grins, "Now you're talking. So...what're we cooking up?"

He gives her his best innocent 'what?' face when she turns to look at him.

"You know me pretty well. You really think I'm going to just sit here and twirl my thumbs?"

"You really think I won't reclaim that Wardstone?"

He twists his face into a somewhat petulant pout, "Look, the faster you're done here, the faster I get back to one hundred percent. Not-so-breaking: Loki, unapologetic me-me-me-er."

She faces him fully, the bowl that made the top of the alter follows suit and something black is coiling and trying its damnedest to flow over the top of it.

'Oh-kay...that's also familiarly creeptastic...'

"This isn't something that can be rushed. Otherwise your perversed word-work will seem like a harmless prank. Don't worry about E. E wouldn't have let you leave if they didn't have faith in you."

The way she says it, coupled with the way she looks at him makes him think that if anything goes south at E's Sanctuary, its his hide that it'll be taken out of. She'd have to take a number, Dean already called dibs. And let's face it, if anyone had a monopoly on resurrections, the Winchesters had it, least as far as humans went. He'd go through the trouble to come back just to make good on his promise. And they wonder why I'm fond of them. Nerds.

"Yeah well...Enkare's....Enkare. Anyone else would lock me up...wait"

He dons his usual charming countenance. It's as close to a 'thank you for protecting my cute ass' that Cate'll get from him for now.

"You can always leave," she looks at him, the air in her words are her equivalent of his.  When he contorts his face to 'Nah, I'm good here,' she continues, "Your word-work? It'll be a while after this. So it's fortunate you saw E first..."

He gives a slight shrug, tries to exude as much innocent ignorance as possible. When that doesn't seem to sell, he grins and couples it with some teasing bedroom eyes.

"Maybe you rubbed off on me..."

Yeah he knows this is pretty much playing with fire, but what he also knows is this was how it was supposed to be. Which meant that perhaps the warding mojo she has set up here did something like E's sanctuary- shutting out whatever it was that was screwing with him. He felt at least a hundred times more like his irresistible roguish, self.

'Almost home, you sons of bitches.'


End file.
